


winning

by wearing_tearing



Series: Sterek Prompt Fills [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Sassy Lydia, Scott is a Good Friend, petnames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2833232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearing_tearing/pseuds/wearing_tearing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s our first Christmas together,” Derek mumbles. “It’s supposed to be special.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	winning

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted from [tumblr](http://dylansneck.tumblr.com/post/104513789174/its-december-1-here-so-can-i-ask-for-a-coliver). prompted by [thekeatingpack](http://thekeatingpack.tumblr.com/) who wanted some last minute christmas shopping.
> 
> **i do not give permission for any of my works to be added to or shared on other websites such as goodreads.**

“This is a disaster.”

“No, it’s not,” Scott says, clapping Derek on the shoulder. “We still have some stores to go to. I’m sure you’ll find something.”

“He’s never going to find anything,” Lydia says, shaking her head.

“ _Lydia,_ ” Scott hisses, giving her his best alpha look.

Lydia raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It’s true. Christmas is in two days. It’s his own fault for leaving his Christmas shopping to the last minute.”

“I didn’t,” Derek sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I bought all your presents a month ago. I just—”

“Forgot to buy Stiles’s,” Scott says, sympathy written all over his face.

“I _didn’t_ ,” Derek snaps, and immediately feels guilty. “I just couldn’t find anything whenever I went looking.”

“He means he couldn’t find anything _worthy_ of Stiles whenever he went looking,” Lydia corrects, equals parts proud and judging.

“It’s our first Christmas together,” Derek mumbles. “It’s supposed to be special.”

Derek and Stiles got together about six months ago, in the beginning of summer, at the pack’s annual trip to the beach. It involved a lot of sunbathing and water fights and Derek trying not to choke while he applied sunscreen to Stiles’s back and shoulders, until one night Stiles convinced him to take a midnight swim.

Derek still remembers the nervous and giddy feeling in his stomach as he watched Stiles run ahead of him and to the ocean, his laugh loud and bright in the dark. He remembers Stiles’s face under the moonlight, skin wet and pale, his lips so pink that all Derek wanted to do was kiss him.

So he did.

And, to his surprised, Stiles kissed him back.

You know, right before he decided it was a good idea to dunk Derek.

But Derek doesn’t count this as part of the story of how they got together, not matter how much Stiles insists on it.

“It will be special,” Scott says, squeezing Derek’s shoulder. “I’m sure Stiles will see that getting to spend Christmas with you will be is a gift on itself.”

“It won’t take away from the fact that you didn’t _buy_ him anything, though,” Lydia points out.

Scott glares at her.

Lydia flips her hair over her shoulder, still not intimidated.

And Derek’s shoulder slump.

“This is a disaster,” Derek says again, lips turning down.

Surprisingly, it’s Lydia who says, “It’s not. Because Scott is right. Stiles won’t mind not getting anything as long as he gets _you_. And judging by the amount of times one of us has walked in on you two having sex, he’s gonna get it.”

“Oh _god_ ,” Scott groans. “Don’t _remind me_.”

Derek can feel the tips of his ears turning red.

It’s not like it’s his fault. He can’t help but get distracted when he has all of _Stiles_ spread out in front of him. Stiles _naked_.

“You should learn how to knock,” is all Derek says.

“We all have keys to your place, anyway,” Scott huffs. “There was no point.”

“There’s obviously one _now_ ,” Derek says, rolling his eyes.

“Again,” Scott says. “Don’t _remind me_.”

“Well, boys,” Lydia interrupts them. “As lovely as this conversation is, Derek still needs to find Stiles a gift.”

Derek looks around the mall, at the people with shopping bags and who look a little worse for wear trying to navigate the crowds. Doing this doesn’t seem pleasant to them, so Derek knows that for a _werewolf_ is going to be worse. He already has a headache from all the cheerful Christmas music.

But he needs to do this. He needs to find Stiles _something_.

“Okay,” Derek says, taking a deep breath and bracing himself. “Let’s go.”

*

After three hours, two fights with other customers, five broken Christmas ornament, and Lydia making someone cry, they’re done and out.

Derek’s so happy he doesn’t even complain when Lydia makes him treat them to dinner.

*

“Derek,” Stiles whispers, breath wet and hot against Derek’s cheek. “Derek, wake up.”

Derek burrows further into the mattress, ignoring him. He can’t help the way his lips twitch up when Stiles makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat and pokes at his side.

“C’mon, baby, it’s Christmas,” Stiles says, placing kisses to Derek’s face and neck. “Christmas means presents. And snowman pancakes. And _morning sex_.”

“Oh, really?” Derek asks, voice rough with sleep.

“Yup, it’s a rule,” Stiles says, and Derek doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know he’s smiling. “But we can only get to that if you’re awake. Although, we should probably talk about it at some point, since somnophilia is on my list.”

Stiles’s list consists of all the things he wants to try in bed at least once in his life. About half of it is already crossed out, and Derek’s endlessly pleased to know he helped Stiles out with most of it.

“We can talk about it later,” Derek tells him, opening his eyes and smiling a little at the flush on Stiles’s cheeks.

“Promise?”

“Yes,” Derek says, leaning in and rubbing their noses together.

“Christmas started five minutes ago and I’m already winning,” Stiles says, grinning wide.

Derek rolls his eyes and throws the blankets over Stiles, getting up from the bed while Stiles yelp and tries to get himself free.

It doesn’t take Stiles long, and about twenty minutes they’re in the kitchen eating breakfast, Derek shaking his head fondly when Stiles presents him with a perfect snowman pancake.

“I gave him angry chocolate syrup eyebrows,” Stiles says, obviously proud of himself. “He looks just like you.”

Derek flicks a marshmallow at him.

Stiles catches it with his mouth and grins as he chews.

And then Derek leans in for a kiss, and soon enough breakfast turns into him on his knees in between Stiles’s spread legs, Stiles’s dick on his mouth, thanking him for all the hard work he did with breakfast.

Yup, not even an hour into Christmas and Derek’s also winning.

*

Presents come after sex and breakfast and a shower, with Stiles running to the living room while he’s putting on a sweater and almost bumping head first into their Christmas tree.

“You’re a menace,” Derek says, snaking his arms around Stiles’s waist and keeping him upright.

“I’m excited,” Stiles says, squirming in Derek’s arms. “I want to show you what I got you.”

“You want to see what _I_ got you, you mean,” Derek corrects, kissing the back of Stiles’s neck.

Derek has to say he’s kind of nervous. He has absolute faith Stiles will like his gift, but he still can’t help the way his stomach flips at the thought of watching Stiles open it.

“Derek,” Stiles says, turning around so he can wrap his arms around Derek’s neck. “You know I don’t really care about all of this, right? I’m just glad you chose to spend your Christmas with me.”

“No one else I’d rather be with.”

“I like it when you’re a sap like that,” Stiles says, cupping Derek’s cheeks and tracing Derek’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Your face goes all soft and pretty.”

“Thought my face was pretty all the time,” Derek jokes, because he knows his cheeks are turning red.

“You know it, baby,” Stiles says, closing the distance between them and giving Derek a quick kiss. “Presents now?”

They sit on the floor in front of their tree, legs crossed under them and facing each other.

Stiles is the first one to hand Derek his gift, a red box covered in tiny little snowflake drawings. “Here,” Stiles says, a big smile on his face. “For you.”

“Thank you,” Derek says, lips curling up.

He stares down intently at his lap as he opens his gift, mouth parting and throat drying when he sees just what it is.

It’s a leather bound photo album with a silver triskele in the middle, filled with pictures of his family before they died. Most of them look like they are actually newspaper clippings or yearbook photos, but a few here and there are old _actual_ photographs.

“I know you have some things left from the fire,” Stiles says quietly. “Like pictures and stuff, but not much, so I figured I could help. There are still a lot of people living in town who used to know and work with your family. They didn’t mind going through some old family albums to see if they had any pictures of them in it. The rest are from some flyers or old newspapers I found in the library, but I guess you can tell.”

“Stiles,” Derek says, voice cracking.

“Do you like it?” Stiles asks hesitantly.

All Derek can do is nod, closing the album reverently and putting it back into it’s box. And then he leans in and gets his arms around Stiles, hugging him tight, his face buried into the crook of Stiles’s neck.

“Thank you,” Derek says, voice muffled. “I love it.”

“No problem, baby,” Stiles says, fingers running through Derek’s hair.

Derek lets go and kisses him, slow and deep, before pulling back and saying, “Time for yours now.”

“Is it sex related?” Stiles jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

Derek makes a face at him. “No, but I’m glad to know you’ll accept sex toys as Christmas gifts.”

“Dildos almost never disappoint,” Stiles says seriously. “Neither do cock rings.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” Stiles says, and then makes grabby hands at him. “Now gimme me my present.”

“As you wish.”

Stiles coos at the _Star Wars_ Christmas wrapping paper and makes Derek promise there’s still some left before he tears into it.

“Derek,” Stiles whispers when he unwraps the gift, face a little pale as he sees the book of illustrated Polish fairy tales. “How did you know?”

“I remember you talking about how your mom used to read them to you before bed,” Derek says quietly. “And how the book ripped a few years after she died because you read it so much.”

“I was so angry at myself when that happened,” Stiles tells him. “And then I lost my new copy on the move here from Berkley.”

“‘S why I got it,” Derek says. “So you had a little bit of your mom back.”

“Thank you,” Stiles says, pulling Derek in for a hug after he places the book back under the tree. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And good to know we’ll never be able to top our first Christmas together,” Stiles says with a smile after he pulls back. “At least not gift wise.”

“I don’t know,” Derek shrugs one shoulder. “I’m sure I could think of something.”

“Oh, do you now?” Stiles waggles his eyebrows.

“Yes,” Derek nods and then says, “Merry Christmas, Stiles.”

“Merry Christmas, Derek.”

*

Three years later, Derek does top their first Christmas together.

You know, when he asks Stiles to marry him.

And when Stiles says _yes_.


End file.
